IN the first part of Robinson Crusoe, at page one hundred and twenty-nine, you will find it thus written:

`Now I saw, though too late, the Folly of beginning a Work before we count the Cost, and before we
judge rightly of our own Strength to go through with it.'

Only yesterday, I opened my Robinson Crusoe at that place. Only this morning (May twenty-first, Eighteen
hundred and fifty), came my lady's nephew, Mr. Franklin Blake, and held a short conversation with me,
as follows:--

`Betteredge,' says Mr. Franklin, `I have been to the lawyer's about some family matters; and, among other
things, we have been talking of the loss of the Indian Diamond, in my aunt's house in Yorkshire, two
years since. Mr. Bruff thinks as I think, that the whole story ought, in the interests of truth, to be placed
on record in writing -- and the sooner the better.'

Not perceiving his drift yet, and thinking it always desirable for the sake of peace and quietness to be on
the lawyer's side, I said I thought so too. Mr. Franklin went on.

`In this matter of the Diamond,' he said, `the characters of innocent people have suffered under suspicion
already -- as you know. The memories of innocent people may suffer, hereafter, for want of a record of
the facts to which those who come after us can appeal. There can be no doubt that this strange family
story of ours ought to be told. And I think, Betteredge, Mr. Bruff and I together have hit on the right way
of telling it.'

Very satisfactory to both of them, no doubt. But I failed to see what I myself had to do with it, so far.

`We have certain events to relate,' Mr. Franklin proceeded; `and we have certain persons concerned in
those events who are capable of relating them. Starting from these plain facts, the idea is that we should
all write the story of the Moonstone in turn -- as far as our own personal experience extends, and no
farther. We must begin by showing how the Diamond first fell into the hands of my uncle Herncastle,
when he was serving in India fifty years since. This prefatory narrative I have already got by me in the
form of an old family paper, which relates the necessary particulars on the authority of an eye-witness.
The next thing to do is to tell how the Diamond found its way into my aunt's house in Yorkshire, two
years ago, and how it came to be lost in little more than twelve hours afterwards. Nobody knows as
much as you do, Betteredge, about what went on in the house at that time. So you must take the pen
in hand, and start the story.'

In those terms I was informed of what my personal concern was with the matter of the Diamond. If you
are curious to know what course I took under the circumstances, I beg to inform you that I did what
you would probably have done in my place. I modestly declared myself to be quite unequal to the task
imposed upon me -- and I privately felt, all the time, that I was quite clever enough to perform it, if I only
gave my own abilities a fair chance. Mr. Franklin, I imagine, must have seen my private sentiments in
my face. He declined to believe in my modesty; and he insisted on giving my abilities a fair chance.

Two hours have passed since Mr. Franklin left me. As soon as his back was turned, I went to my writing-
desk to start the story. There I have sat helpless (in spite of my abilities) ever since; seeing what Robinson
Crusoe saw, as quoted above -- namely, the folly of beginning a work before we count the cost, and
before we judge rightly of our own strength to go through with it. Please to remember, I opened the
book by accident, at that bit, only the day before I rashly undertook the business now in hand; and, allow
me to ask -- if that isn't prophecy, what is?

I am not superstitious; I have read a heap of books in my time; I am a scholar in my own way. Though
turned seventy, I possess an active memory, and legs to correspond. You are not to take it, if you please,
as the saying of an ignorant man, when I express my opinion that such a book as Robinson Crusoe
never was written, and never will be written again. I have tried that book for years -- generally in combination
with a pipe of tobacco -- and I have found it my friend in need in all the necessities of this mortal life.